


Fountain of (You)th

by dandelion_writes



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: Action/Adventure, Bittersweet, Comedy, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, Fluff and Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-03
Updated: 2020-06-03
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:33:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 713
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24527686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dandelion_writes/pseuds/dandelion_writes
Summary: Jaskier, our beloved and ever-dramatic bard, begins to discover the first signs of ageing. Shocked and afraid, he turns to his long-term (boy)friend and faithful travel companion, Geralt, who characteristically has very little sympathy or understanding of such a dire predicament.Will the Witcher be able to find a solution to his dear bard's woes? Or will destiny and many, many monsters stand in their way?
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia & Jaskier | Dandelion, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion, in later chapters
Comments: 9
Kudos: 29





	Fountain of (You)th

**Author's Note:**

> That title, sheesh. It's a working title until I can come up with something less cheesy. Anyway, I hope you like it and I apologise for any mistakes or errors - it didn't get a beta.

“Geralt?”

…

“Geralt!”

**_…_ **

“GERALLL-“

**_Fuck._ **

“What **_is it_** , bard?”

“I think… oh sweet Melitele, say it isn’t so… it cannot be, I can’t-“

“ ** _JASKIER!_** ”

“Oh, Geralt, be honest with me. I know that you will. Brutally so, if your usual demeanour is anything to go by. Geralt… is this… do I have… is this a _grey hair_?” Jaskier’s voice dropped almost to a whisper at the last two words, a kind of disdainful emphasis on the word ‘grey’, as if it were something foul he had just stepped in.

Geralt half-growled, half-snorted then, because he had believed the bard to have had some kind of actual emergency, and although his anger prickled at being so needlessly roused from his meditation, he couldn’t help but scoff.

“Geralt! This is important! I can’t go… _grey_!” That hissed whisper again, like this was some secret that the world (or, more accurately - given their current location deep in an ancient forest - that deer over there and a few rabbits,) could never know.

“Oh? And what is so wrong with grey hair, bard?” 

“No, no, no… nothing! Nothing on _you,_ Geralt _-_ it’s really rather dashing! It brings out your eyes, my dear witcher. But I am just a humble bard; my youth and vibrancy draw in the crowds! I have a certain image to maintain, you must understand, and-“

“Vanity.”

“Yes, and- Wait, what? Excuse me, Geralt, but I think I may have misheard you. I thought you said-“

“It’s vanity, Jaskier. Your audiences don’t give a shit about what you look like.”

Jaskier let out an incredulous gasp, hands flying to his hips as he rocked back on his heels slightly, as though the sheer shock of such a statement had physically knocked him off balance. 

“Ohhh, oh hoho, no. You wound me, witcher! To think that I, Julian Alfred Pankratz, could ever be accused of vanity. _Vanity!_ ” Jaskier puffs himself up with all the intent of a bull ready to charge at that blood-red flag which baits him so cruelly. “My _dear_ Geralt, I have travelled far and wide - on foot, may I add! - in your company. The life of a witcher’s bard is not one of glamour, let me tell you. I have waded through rivers, squelched through bogs, been utterly _drenched_ in monster innards, and do I complain?”

“Yes. Constantly.” Geralt retorted without missing a beat, concealing the sly smile that tugged at the corner of his mouth under the guise of turning and kneeling to poke at the embers of the fire. 

Sometimes he simply couldn’t resist poking at the bard in the same way, just to see him flare.

Jaskier’s eyes narrowed to all but slits, glaring daggers at the back of Geralt’s boorish head. He decided that such an ignorant remark didn’t deserve a response, however, and simply waved a dismissive hand in Geralt’s general direction, taking a large breath before continuing his tirade.

“My shoes are _ruined,_ my trousers are full of tears - I can’t remember the last time I had a proper bath! And you, witcher, accuse me of _vanity?_ Just because you may be happy to reek of onion and walk around covered in Drowner juice, that doesn’t mean everyone is! Do you not realise how expensive these exquisite doublets are? They are tailored to fit me and only me - one of a kind! Not like some old, quite frankly ill-fitting, black shirt I could swear you’ve been wearing for at least ten years…”

“Jaskier.”

“And another thing! I’m getting rather tired of your bad moods. Would it hurt to…“ The bard’s voice trailed off into nothing as he slowly lowered his gaze to look at the witcher - still kneeling, but now motionless - and found his expression to be quite serious. 

“Geralt? What is it? What’s wrong?”

“Quiet, Jaskier.”

Although rarely one to be stopped during an outpouring, Jaskier had travelled with the witcher long enough to know the difference between Geralt being… well, Geralt, and the very real need to shut up and get his head down because there was potential danger approaching. Without another sound, he cautiously crouched down next to Geralt, keeping his movements to a minimum and his breath barely there.

That’s when he heard the sound of stampeding feet. _Lots, and lots_ of feet.

**Author's Note:**

> If you enjoyed this first short chapter, please leave kudos - or even better - a comment or two. I'm not feeling fantastic about any of my projects right now, so knowing how this is received will be incredibly helpful. 
> 
> Thank you so much for reading, and if you liked it and have Tumblr - reblogs are always adored and appreciated.


End file.
